Returning Moon
by Nicolelee13
Summary: Two sisters, Michelle and Nicole, have moved to Forks because of their mother’s last wish and find themselves facing her memory in every corner. Little did they know there were other things in the corner as well- Edward and Jacob.
1. Preface

**Preface**

Love is often described as something that cannot be replaced, only found once in a lifetime- though I tend to disagree. That's what true love is. You can love as many times as your heart will allow you, but your soul gives you only one chance for true, everlasting love.

Two boys stood in the quiet graveyard, neither one talking as they remained motionless. In one of the boy's hand was a single white rose that was slowly beginning to wilt from the rain.

"I can't believe she's gone," the one without the rose whispered. His dark brown eyes dull with pain as he bent his head forward and silently continued to cry.

"I know," a velvet voice agreed with pain mirrored in his own. "I keep expecting to find her everywhere I go."

The boy with the deep brown eyes shuddered and fisted his hands into balls. Thoughts running through his head as he blamed himself, only himself. He could have protected, saved her from this, but he only helped her to her death.

"It's not your fault, Jacob," more pain entered the soothing voice.

"It is! If she wasn't with me she would be right here, she would be alive right now," Jacob screamed without looking up.

The other boy's golden eyes hardened as he stared at Jacob. His bronze hair gently floated in the wind as his gaze turned deadly, "If you really loved her then you would know she wouldn't want you to blame yourself. If you loved her at all then you would realize that she would want you to be happy."

Jacob froze as the rain continued to fall around them. Finally he raised his tear- stained face

"You can say all you want, Edward, but I can't accept that."

Edward turned back to the grave understanding what Jacob meant because he thought those same things: if only he had been with Bella, if only he had changed her when she had first asked none of this would have happened. She would be here, safe.

"Where do we go from here?" Jacob coughed, sorrow etched into every part of him.

"I don't know," Edward forced out, both knowing they felt the same- life had no purpose without Bella.

Jacob grimaced as he thought of her and felt another shudder go through him. He stood fighting against the rain, hardly any strength left in him.

"I know we've never been friends before…," Edward tried to say.

"For Bella, we can at least try," Jacob finished with no emotion.

"Yes."

Jacob turned to Edward and gave him the slightest nod of his head, agreeing. Together they stood alone, fighting the cold that was slowly entering their hearts. Edward glanced down, placing the white rose on the ground.

"Come back to me," he whispered to the ground. He gently leaned down towards the gravestone and rested his fingers against Bella's name. "I don't care how you do it just come back to me."


	2. Chapter One

**Summary Two sisters, Michelle and Nicole, have moved to Forks because of their mother's last wish and find themselves facing her memory in every corner. Little did they know there were other things in the corner as well- Edward and Jacob. With the recent death of Bella both the boys discover a friendship and the common promise of never loving again- a promise they planned to keep until meeting the sisters.**

**How will Edward and Jacob handle the girls entering their lives? And how will the girls handle learning the boy's secret? (Told in Nicole's point of view)**

**Author's note First let me explain myself as to why I killed Bella off- it started out as a story for my friend who really wanted to end up with Edward, but somewhere along the way it morphed into a what- if story. What if Bella really did die before Edward had a chance to change her? The more I wrote the more I wanted it to be realistic. I didn't just want a story where Bella died, a new girl came in and everything would alright. There had turmoil, there had to be fights, and mostly there had to be unwillingness. Edward wouldn't just forget about Bella no matter who the new girl was. He LOVED Bella. And finally, I didn't want to forget about Jacob since Bella was in love with him too. Now I am finally going to shut up and let you read the story. Hopefully you will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. **

**Chapter one Meeting**

It was cold. The wind blew across my back from the window I had left open, but I couldn't find the motivation to do anything about it. Even if it started to rain, I doubted that I would get up.

I curled into a tighter ball- my white sheet sliding down from my legs as I moved- trying to get warm: anything to avoid getting out of bed and placing my feet on the creaky floor. I wanted to stay in bed as long as possible since it was Saturday.

I sighed and flipped over hoping the other side had some warmth left from where my sister had slept. Ice. I turned to the window looking out in the cloudy sky and wondered when it was going to rain. Everything looked sharper, the trees more lush and the dirt rougher.

Slowly I sat up and ran my fingers through my blonde hair as I looked for a hair band. The breeze crept in around me blowing strands across my face. I smiled lightly as I sat up straighter allowing the wind to dance across my skin. I forgot all about the cold until a chill rose up my spine. Rubbing my hands over my arms, I stood and walked to the closet.

I ran my fingers over the few sweaters I had unpacked and decided on my favorite green hoodie. I slipped it over my head and made my way back to the bed. I flopped down smiling into the pillow. If anyone had seen me they probably would have asked why I didn't just close the window. But, honestly, the closet was closer. I was truly a lazy person at heart.

I reached out to grab the other pillow but instead knocked over something from the desk next to my bed. I glanced to see what it was only to find a picture of mom smiling back at me. My throat tightened as I managed to pick it up without getting off the bed. A small crack ran along the side of her face. Suddenly I felt guilty like I had broken her.

Even with the crack, her picture was beautiful. Her pale blonde hair gently waved away from her face revealing chocolate brown eyes. With her face in front of me it was hard to believe she was gone.

Tears quietly began to pool in my eyes as I continued to stare at the frame. Everything came flooding back-the way she held the family together, the way she smiled, and especially the way she loved me.

With her picture in my lap, I stared out into the window no longer enjoying the view. I tried to make myself numb but the emotions came flooding in- anger, sadness, and mostly helplessness.

For the past year, she had been dieing from cancer that attacked her organs all at once. Although she was growing weaker everyday she had that bright smile on her face. I assumed she would be alright. I ignored the pain in her eyes and the slow, drunken movements when she walked. But suddenly she was fine; we even went to the beach. She laughed loudly, bathed in the sun like she would never see it again and had splash fights with Dad. Then just as suddenly as she fine, she was sick again but worse than before. For the last week of her life, she cried from the pain and the fear she felt. On the final day through the tears she told Michelle and me that she would always watch over us, would always love us. And that we would always be able to find her. After that she was gone to a place we could never reach.

The last two weeks had been spent trying to come to terms with her death but all I had really been doing was building a box to put my feelings in. It was just so much easier to pay no attention to the overwhelming vulnerability I felt.

Without a noise, I put the picture back on the desk wishing the crack would disappear. But some things never come true.

I laid on my pillow facing the wall willing a numbness to sink in. Gradually the sorrow slipped away and in its place a temporary peace came. And then followed the dreams.

It was a familiar place, the green light of the forest surrounding me. The distant sound of waves crashing against rocks could be heard from where I stood. The sun tried to break through the trees, but only rays came filtering through. All of a sudden I knew that if I followed the sound of the ocean then I would find the sun. But the sound led me to the darkest part of the forest then there was nothing.

Tension filled the air clawing its way down my spine. I spun around trying to find a way out but slowly the trees came closing in on me. Fear left me speechless as I tried to scream.

Then out of no where a hand grabbed mine and I was running through the trees. The hand tugged pulling me towards the sound of the ocean. As we ran the fear I had felt rolled off me replaced with safety and warmth. Before I knew it, the sun was shining brightly in my face. The hand gently let go only to be substituted with arms wrapped around me.

Carefully, I tried to open my eyes only to blink rapidly. His figure came in quick, stolen glances. His brown eyes looked almost black with the sun behind him. His face was hard, sharp but was softened by the smile on his lips. His skin was russet contrasting my olive complexion. His hair tickled my face falling like black satin. But what amazed me the most was his height. He towered over me.

"You're safe," he breathed gently in relief. I felt my knees go weak, my limbs turning to jelly. Everything in me seemed to unfreeze like I had been waiting for him. It left me feeling like I had no strength to stand. Just as I felt my knees about to give, he laughed, "Hey--" tightening his arms around me. When I continued to fall he threw his arm around my waist and lifted me closer to him. My hands flattened against his chest and abruptly all his laughing stopped.

His eyes softened, "You'll always be safe."

I wanted to ask everything that came into my mind but none of the words would come out. I wanted to know who he was, why he saved me. But he started to fade, his arms loosing their grip on me. I tried to grab his shirt but it slipped through my fingers.

"Wait!" I yelled jerking myself awake. My breath came in quick, short puffs. I jumped onto my knees looking everywhere around me until I realized I was no longer dreaming. "Argggg! Not again! Why can I never get past that part?!"

I picked up the pillow behind me and threw it at the wall- satisfied with the light thump it made against the wall. The dreams had started as soon as I had arrived in Forks and had continued ever since. His face would come to me slowly slipping from my grasp like water when all I wanted to do was drink. The feel of his hand and the way he held me haunted me. It followed me everywhere. Never before in my life had I felt the way I did when I saw him, was with him.

I pulled my knees to my chest wondering why I was dreaming that way. Before Forks, my dreams would be forgotten in the morning but now they were as vivid as reality- and not as easily erased.

Was there a reason behind it? Or was my imagination just really overactive? I moaned as my eyes glanced over at the alarm clock. It was past two in the afternoon. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and looked around my room. It was packed with boxes, but it felt bare. The walls were a pale blue that reminded me of the ocean but it screamed of sadness when it was dark. The wood floors had scratches here and there that told of a happier time. The only furniture that I had in the room was my bed and the desk that Mom used to write on. I kept telling myself that I had to put my things up, make this my home, but something always stopped me.

I jumped out of bed before I had too much time to think and headed to the closet. I grabbed the first pair of jeans that I saw which ending up being the jeans that Dad hated the most. I walked downstairs with holes everywhere on my legs and my hair up in a messy bun.

Michelle was in the kitchen bending over a pan on the oven. A sweet smell filled the air and seemed to hover. I sat down on the stool next to the counter hoping whatever she was cooking was for me.

"Good _Afternoon_," she emphasized heavily as she brushed a blonde strand of hair away from her face. She laid down the spoon and turned to me.

I shrugged at the obvious attempt at sarcasm. I looked past her to focus on the food that was cooking. "For me?"

She laughed as she nodded her head. She put a plate loaded with chocolate chip pancakes and maple syrup in front of me. The chocolate chips were shaped into a deformed smiley face: A tradition that had been started long before Michelle and I were born. It usually meant whoever had cooked it wanted a favor.

"So what do you want?" I asked with a mouth full of food. Michelle dropped her eyes to floor and turned to the sink. I knew her better than anyone else and I knew she was after something.

"Why do you always think I want something?" she mumbled as she washed the dishes.

I held up my hand and started to count the reasons, "One, you didn't bother me once this morning. Two, you cook me a nice breakfast when usually all I get is cereal-"

"Alright, alright, point taken, but it's really important. And I didn't know how to ask you."

I stopped eating and glanced up at her. She had moved away from the sink and was no longer facing me. In her hands was the towel she usually used to dry the dishes, but right now it was twisted around her fingers. Her eyes were focused on the floor in front of her like she was trying to figure out what to say.

I felt a small bit of panic clasp my heart. With her standing there, she looked exactly like mom when she told the family she was dying. Her blonde hair was pushed to one side gently curling against her neck. Her green eyes were shaded appearing almost black. She was pale, more so than usual.

"Michelle?" I could hear the concern that filled my voice. Her head snapped up and a look of surprise crossed over her face as she saw mine. Without a moment's hesitations, she walked over to me and reached for my hands. She laid her forehead against mine.

"It's nothing like that. I'm sorry I scared you," she smiled sadly. "I wanted you to go to the graveyard with me today and visit Mom. You haven't been since we've moved here."

I closed my eyes trying to block all the flashes of the funeral that came popping up. Every time I had gone near the cemetery memories of her came back so strong I had to pull over and just cry.

Going to her grave just drove home the fact she was never coming back. My mother was never going to watch me go to prom: she was never going to watch me get married.

"Please?" Michelle quietly begged. I felt guilt rush into my mind, filling the dark like a white light. I had never taken time to realize how Michelle was doing and how this affected her.

I opened my eyes and pulled back from her taking a glimpse at the kitchen. Everything was clean, perfectly in order. All the dishes were put up except for the few in the sink. The counters were shining in the low light. It was precisely how it would have looked if Mom had still been alive.

I stopped looking around the kitchen understanding that she had done everything she could to make dad and me comfortable. I suddenly remembered her doing the laundry, cooking dinner, and holding me as I cried.

"I'll go with you," I whispered as I slowly stood and took my plate to the sink. As I passed Michelle, a soft smile was painted on her lips. She quietly left the room to go get ready.

"You can do this, Nicole," I tried to tell myself. I leaned against the counter waiting for Michelle but felt my eyes center on the floorboards. A long, deep scratch about a foot long with two similar but smaller scratches on each side was in the middle of the floor.

I thought back to the time when Dad had first brought us into the house. It seemed almost perfect until we walked into kitchen to find it destroyed. The window had been busted in leaving a small trail of glass that lead into the laundry room. The wall paper had been torn and was left hanging by a thread. And on the floor was the scratch that looked like a big dog had caused it. At the time I had wondered who had caused it but I had forgotten it until now.

Dad freaked thinking a burglar had tried to break in and finding nothing trashed the place. Michelle thought it was just the local guys pulling a prank. And me, I didn't buy either of their explanations- it almost looked like there had been a fight. But that didn't explain the scratch on the floor: I was pretty sure a dog had caused that. Though I couldn't think of one that could become that large. Maybe I was wrong about there being a fight, maybe something as simple as a couple of kids were the answer.

"Dad said he get that fixed soon," Michelle walked into the room smoothing her hair into a ponytail. She joined me at the counter and stared at the floor also.

I had told her my suspicions about what had happened but she laughed saying I was daydreaming again. Although lately, I had caught her looking intently at it. She wasn't laughing then.

"I don't know… I kind of like it there," I continued to study the floor searching for other scratches we might have missed. None. Deciding it was time to go; I grabbed the car keys from the table and dangled them in Michelle's face.

She jokingly snatched them out of my hand and led the way to the car. The rain had started to come down in a soft mist, not enough to soak me right away but I pulled my hood over my head anyway. Everything was glossed over from the rain appearing even greener. The air around the trees seemed to filter green. It was beautiful but the look on my sister's face said she thought otherwise.

When we had moved here, the first words out of her mouth were that she would miss seeing brown. Dad told her to get used to it.

I frowned thinking about Dad and how he had been recently. Usually when Michelle said something like that he would chuckle but he didn't even as so much as crack a grin. He was typically the life of the party, always joking and playing. I knew Mom's death affected him more than anyone but just one joke would let me know he was going to be okay.

We drove to the cemetery in silence, the radio on but playing so lightly it hummed. The rain that had been so soft outside pounded on the window blurring everything in sight. About thirty minutes later we pulled in front of the rusted gates. As we got out of the car, more clouds began to gather. I looked up hoping a storm wasn't coming. The walk to her site was filled with tension from unsaid words that neither of us had the courage to say. And suddenly we were there and the tension left.

Mom's grave was still partially brown, only baby grass covered the area. Bright yellow flowers were already resting near her name and instantly I knew Dad had already been here today. Michelle dropped to the ground not minding the mud. She ran her fingers over Mom's dates then over her name.

"I miss her so much, Nicole," her hand hovered the stone like she was afraid to let go. "I wake up every morning thinking she's still here and then I realize she's not. I try to keep everything together, to be strong, but I can't help wondering if this is how she would have done it. I'm so scared that I will mess up somehow, that I will let her down."

My sister was stronger than I could ever hope to be. While I had been running away, too afraid to face the emotions I felt, she had been dealing with hers head on. Even now she told me all of her fears and expected nothing from me. It was right then I decided I was no longer going to run away, I was going to face whatever I had to.

I leaned down until I was sitting in front of Mom's headstone with Michelle's hand near my face: I placed my own next to hers.

"Mom would be proud of you," I said knowing how much the words would mean to her. Without saying anything we sat there, just being sisters and recognizing the fact that together we would get through this.

The rain had gradually begun to stop leaving only a slight fog in its wake. A soft wind rustled around us blowing leaves carelessly about. As it changed directions, it brought with it a sickly sweet smell that burned my nose. It was almost icy.

I looked around but only found a boy standing a few feet away. His hair was disheveled and wet-- yet, I could tell it was bronze- colored. His face was dazzling, though not friendly, a slight frown on his lips. His dark eyes were focused into a careful glare. As I looked more closely, I saw he was rigid. His stare was focused on Michelle and when she swiftly glanced up, his glare turned furious. I was shocked by the open hostility he seemed to regard her with. His hands were clenched into a fist and even being a small distance away, I could see the tendons standing out under his pale skin.

I stood quickly glaring back at him- I did not like the way he was looking at her. He turned his head his eyes slightly widening as he saw me. He looked surprised and… confused. He lowered his head until his face was covered by shadows, turned on his heel, and left.

"Do you have any idea what that was about?" I asked Michelle still watching the boy's retreating back. The only way I could have described him was beautiful, but obviously insane- not my type. When she didn't answer, I found that she was still in the same position that she was when he looked at her. Her cheeks were flushed; eyes bright and instantly I knew what was going on. He was exactly her type.

I sighed and headed to where the boy had been standing. The headstone belonged to a girl named Isabella Swan and she died only a month ago. There were flowers on each side and they looked like they had been placed recently. Crossing my arms, I wondered who she was and why that boy came here. Was she a sister? Or was she something more to him?

I moved back to Michelle and shook her when I discovered she was still spacing out. We said our goodbyes to Mom but promised to come back soon. Once we were in the car I gave Michelle two seconds to tell me what was on her mind before I jumped her.

"Who was he?" she whispered. Her eyebrows were knitting together, her mouth in a tight line. I bit my lip to keep from laughing but only managed to disguise the snort.

"Don't give yourself a hemorrhage," I laughed aloud when she glared at me. Her hands on the steering wheel turned white; they held so tightly it looked like she was trying to break it.

"I-- I don't know how to explain what I'm feeling," Michelle said.

I glanced out of the window thoughtfully. "You want to know everything about him," I guessed through a knowing smile.

"More than anything. I want to know who is he and why he acted like that. Does any of this make sense?"

"Possibly," I nodded, letting my eyes rest on the running white line. "So what started it? I saw the way he glared at you and it scared even me."

There was no reason for the way he had acted. He didn't even know her, did he? Did she do something to him? I cringed reasoning with myself that whatever she did, she did not deserve the look he gave her.

Her face was suddenly wistful, "Before I looked up, I could feel his eyes watching me. It was like he was curious about me."

"Curious?"

"Well, like he wanted to know who I was and why I was there."

My eyes narrowed as I thought back. He seemed to consider her with a wariness. What would have happened had she not looked up when she did? Would he have relaxed, showed his true expression?

Michelle's voice grew lower, "I feel like I know him. I think he is the guy from my dreams."

"Whoa, what?!" I twisted in my seat. "What dreams are you talking about? You never mentioned them before?!"

"I've been having them every night," she admitted. "They always start out the same. I'm standing in the woods and I can hear the ocean. I try to go towards the sound but this girl grabs my hand and leads me to the darkest part. But I'm not afraid," she continued- her lips forming into a small smile. "Then the girl lets go. She tells me something I can't hear and the next thing I know someone else is standing there. I can never see him because just as I turn around the sun comes out and it engulfs him in a shining light."

I sat there for a moment not knowing what to say. "Well, I guess I'm not the only one having dreams then."

"You too?" she seemed surprised hear to that.

"Yeah, they started about the same time we moved here. How long have yours been going on?"

Michelle turned on the left blinker and headed into our neighborhood, "About the same time Mom was doing really well- maybe less than month ago."

Unexpectedly, the date on the girl's headstone came back to me- she had died about the same time. It was like something was going that I had no idea how to handle. Even with my newfound resolution to face things head on, this sensation felt out of my hands.

"Home sweet home," Michelle switched off the ignition and got out of the car. Reluctantly I left my thoughts behind and followed her into the house. I took of my hoodie tossing it on the couch as I passed it on the way to the stairs. Even though the house was a little cold, the chill felt soothing on my skin. I had one foot on the steps when Michelle became aware of the fact I never told her about my dreams.

"Wait. Right. There," she spat the words through clenched teeth.

I let my other foot fall behind my other and spun around to face her, "May I help you." I smiled falsely hoping I could find a way out of telling her.

"Aren't you going to tell me what happened in your dreams?" she neatly crossed her arms and tapped her foot. Some part of me recognized that she wasn't going to give up easily. "I mean its only fair after I told you mine."

"That's blackmail and that's illegal."

"Shut up, Nicole. I demand to know what you're not telling me."

"I kind of don't want to," I shrugged-- only jokingly; I knew if I pushed her too far I would be the one cooking dinner and explaining to Dad why it was burnt.

She hissed unimpressively.

"Alright, alright, just give me a few minutes to change and I'll tell you. Just sit down and I'll hurry up."

She rolled her eyes, "As if, I'm coming too. Knowing you, you'll try to weasel your way out."

"_WHATEVER,"_ she was so right.

We headed up the stairs and made a right into my room. I started to hunt through the boxes to find my duck shorts but gave up halfway through. I did find my bright stripped pants that had a patch sewn on the left knee however. It was amazing I was picking all the things Dad hated today.

Before sitting on my bed I opened the double French doors to let more air in. The sky had turned a light purple and lightening could be seen in the distance. Michelle had plopped herself in the middle of the mattress and was waiting for me to join her.

"Well?"

I laid down and hugged a pillow to myself. I didn't know where to start or how to begin. I thought back to the first time I had seen his face and the emotions I had woken up with.

"Do you ever have that feeling you should know that person but you don't?" I sighed. When she nodded, I closed my eyes to focus on the erratic thoughts and sort them out. "Every night it's the same dream. Its kind of like yours- I'm in the forest and I can hear the ocean. But that's where the similarities end. In my dream, no one led me to the dark. I led myself. Then someone comes to save me. He is so beautiful I can't even think straight, let alone talk. He holds me like I can break and then all at once he's gone. Its like I can't hold onto him no matter how hard I try.

"And after each dream, I want to know who he is. Where he comes from and why he haunts me the way he does.

"I didn't tell you about it because I thought it wasn't a big deal to anyone but me. I, also, wanted to keep it to myself. He was like my secret that I only knew about and he gave me comfort after Mom died."

A light flashed through the room followed by a loud rumble, a shock I hadn't been expecting. Everything slowly turned dark- the faint light turned from purple to blue, the clouds from gray to black.

I hugged the pillow closer, hoping the storm would pass over. For a few seconds there was no sound until a roar hummed across the sky. The frogs that usually started to chirp by now could not be heard- it was absolutely quiet.

I settled closer to Michelle, so that I leaned against her side. I had always hated storms and had grown to fear them. She turned over to face me and I could see that her eyes were beginning to drop. Whenever it started to rain or thunder she would instantly feel sleepy. I envied her for that- I would be up hours after the storm just to make sure it was really gone.

"Michelle?" I called hoping she would wake up.

"Sleep, sleep," she mumbled as she continued to close her eyes, the green barely visible. In mere seconds, I could hear her deep, even breathing. It took me by surprise again how much she looked like Mom.

Like a lullaby, the rain came pouring down whispering against the window. I silently stood suddenly finding all the noise overwhelming. I escaped to the downstairs and curled myself into the couch. With my face pressed against the cushion, I tried to ignore the storm and the sadness that was surrounding my heart. And slowly something that never happened before when it was thundering took place- I fell asleep.

Once again I was in the forest with the sound of waves echoing around me, but instead of moving towards the sound like usual I decided to take another way. I didn't listen to the sounds or look for the light, but searched for the one person who always saved me. It didn't take long to find him.

His back was facing me with his head lifted towards the sky. I walked around him carefully trying not to disturb him and giving myself time to allow my heart to slow. But when I faced him I stopped in my tracks. His eyes were closed but tears were coming out- it was like he was reliving a tragedy.

"Bella," he sighed into the sunlight. I wanted to cry, to scream, but all I could do was stand there. Did he love her? Was she the one he thought of when he held my hand?

When his eyes abruptly opened, I took off running without caring where I went. I didn't want to see the answers he held behind his heart. The wind blew around me lifting my hair away from my face. It felt like I was flying and, at that moment, I wished I was. I didn't want to hurt anymore, I didn't want to feel sadness anymore.

I felt his hand wrap around my wrist and force me to stop. I fought trying to escape but his grip only tightened letting me know I wasn't going anywhere.

"Let me go!" I screamed still pulling but not as much.

"Never," he said. With his other hand he gently raised it to my cheek and cupped it. I had every intention of turning away but I leaned into it instead. The feeling of warmth and safety ran through me and it made me want to stay there forever.

"Promise you'll never leave, that you'll always be by my side even if I don't want you there. Promise me you'll always understand and know that I love you. Promise me you'll always be here, for eternity."

My breath hitched inside my throat as soon as the words left his lips. In a short amount of time, he became everything to me but those words scared me. It was like he was trying to warn about the real him.

I knew I was in a dream, but part of me wondered if he was real outside the dream. Did this mean when I actually meet him he would be cold towards me? I tried to push aside the thought and focus on the feel of his hand.

"I promise," I whispered into his hand. He smiled then began to disappear. I grabbed his hand trying to keep him with me. "Your name- I don't know your name?!"

He took hold of my face in both his hands sliding his thumbs across my cheeks. His eyes stared into mine like he was trying decide if he should tell me.

"My name is Jacob," was all he said as he finally vanished.

"Wait!" I screamed so loudly as I shot up in the couch. Tears were falling down my face making their way down to my lips. I didn't understand what was taking place, just that I didn't want it to end.

Every part of me wanted to find Jacob, to find out why he was becoming the only thing I could think of. The only thing that scared me more than finding out he wasn't real, was that he was. But it was the kind of fear that left me excited.

I could hear the floor creak above my head and I knew Michelle was awake. But I didn't move except to wipe the tears away. I could still feel the after effects of the dream and I wanted them to last as long as possible. I closed my eyes enjoying the tingling sensation that was splayed across my cheek.

Michelle came down the stairs, her socks muffling her footsteps. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel her stare on me. He voice was soft as she used my nickname, "Neko--" she flopped down on the couch. She pulled her knees to her wrapping her arms around them, her toes dangling over the edge.

"What's up Elle," I also used her nickname- we barely called each other by them anymore. When we were younger and could scarcely pronounce our names, we took to a butchered version of them.

"Nothing much," she bit her lip, a nervous habit that we both had when we were thinking too much. With her arms still around her knees, she fingered the frayed end of her jeans. Michelle had the habit of fidgeting while trying to figure something out.

"If you tell me, I could probably help you," I leaned back letting my eyes rest on the ceiling. I wondered when we started to drift apart. It wasn't as if we were no longer close, but I could feel the wall that both of us had put up. A year ago I would have already told her about the dreams and she would have told me about hers immediately. I wanted that confidence back: I wanted to be able to tell her anything again. I didn't want Mom's death to affect us forever.

"I want to see him," she stopped biting her lip but still stared in front of her.

"You could try the graveyard again," I suggested as I stretched my arms above me. Michelle snorted causing me to sigh-- I knew she didn't want to meet him where the memories overshadowed reality. "What other plan do you have then? We know nothing about him."

"Well that's what I was hoping you help me with," she grinned slyly. I wanted to groan as soon as I gathered her meaning.

"You can't be serious?! That's weird!" I sat straight up and waved my hands in front of me. "No way!"

"Please?! You're the only one I know who can dig up that kind of information! Besides we're not finding information on him, we're finding information about that tombstone he was at."

I frowned, "That's an invasion of privacy."

Michelle unfolded her legs and turned to me. Her eyes glistened with tears but she didn't try to pull the puppy face. The tears were real and let me know how much this meant to her.

"Promise me you won't become obsessive," I scoffed as I went upstairs to get my computer. When I was half-way up the stairs I barely heard her whisper, "I just want to get him out of my head."

Maybe I was wrong for what I was about to do, but I knew what it felt like to have your heart be guided by something unseen. I just hoped I understood the consequences of what I was doing. What was I getting myself into? And more importantly, what was I getting Michelle into?


End file.
